


don't listen to the question, the truth is in the answer

by Charante_Leclerc



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, based on that ask of 'smash/pass'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 00:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charante_Leclerc/pseuds/Charante_Leclerc
Summary: A new craze hits the paddock, revealing some truths.





	don't listen to the question, the truth is in the answer

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt from anon: "an I request some James Vowles?" I hope I delivered okay!

The most trying time in his life was, hands down, the 2019 Hungarian grand prix. It was nothing to do with the team, (as if, they were on top of the world, one hand already on both championships by the time the summer break had even rolled around). No, the most annoying part of the summer, or the year, or his entire life? It was when the Paddock started playing ‘smash or pass?’

He wasn’t a vain man. He wasn’t the guy that had to stand in front of the media, to make a show and dance for the journalists. He was behind-the-scenes, sometimes quite literally. And he liked that. He hadn’t dreamed about working in Formula 1 to become famous. He was proud of his work, he was proud of how far he’d come, but he’d never wanted to be a famous face. 

He’d first heard of the game from Lewis, who’d heard about it from Seb, who’d heard it from Charles, who’d heard it… he’d given up at that point. He didn’t care, he figured it’d be something that would blow over before the weekend was even over. Somehow, someone had mentioned the game that they’d found, and the drivers started to play it between themselves. They didn’t play it all the time, and to begin with it was mostly the younger drivers (and Dan) randomly asking as they passed each other in the Paddock, or while they were waiting for the briefing. The first time he heard it being played, he heard Lando ask Alex, “Kimi Raikkonen?”

He’d thought it was a little odd, framing a name as simply a question, and found it stranger still when Alex responded, “Smash.” It was a few seconds later when his brain caught up with him, remembering the game that Lewis had mentioned that morning. He shook his head, putting it down to the younger guys being antsy that weekend, and thought nothing more of it. 

Well, nothing more for the rest of the day, anyway.

By the next day, even Lewis and Valtteri had joined in the fun, throwing each other names across the garage, or laughing between themselves in the briefing, showing each other  _ something _ on their phones. They stopped after Toto sent them warning looks, but he just had this feeling that this gay wasn’t going to go away quickly, or quietly. 

~*~

By Saturday morning, the game had spread like wildfire. It wasn’t just contained to the drivers, or even to the immediate people surrounding them. The game was  _ everywhere. _ Everyone around him at Mercedes was playing it, from engineers to mechanics to PR and hospitality. Journalists were playing it, and photographers and technical crews. Marshalls were playing it, and security. The teams in GP2 and GP3 were playing it. Everywhere he went, he just heard names being called out, followed by various cries of “smash!” or “pass!” It was if a frenzy had descended into the Paddock, and it didn’t seem to be disappearing anytime soon. 

As the day wore on, the names being called out started to verge on the ridiculous. It had started with just drivers, then well-known journalists, and team principals. By the end of the day, any name was up for grabs. 

It wasn’t until he was heading towards the Paddock exit that evening, already frustrated with the day’s events, (he’d even caught Toto joining in.  _ Toto. _ ), that he heard his own name being called out.

“James Vowles!”

He turned, already starting to form the ‘yes’ that would usually follow someone calling his name, when people were already replying; 

“Smash!”

“Pass!”

“Pass!”

“Smash!”

“Maybe!”

“Maybe isn’t even an answer!” He groaned, running a hand over his face. “It’s not a difficult game!”

~*~

By Sunday, he couldn’t stop hearing his own name. He wasn’t conceited, he really wasn’t, but even he couldn’t deny that it was nice to hear people answering ‘smash’ to his name. He still didn’t like the game, he was probably the only one that hadn’t responded to anything, and for the most part he was just desperately hoping that this game would disappear by the time they came back from the break. But still, it was a little ego boost. Everyone could do with a little bit of extra self-confidence every now and again. 

The game never stopped completely, even during the race, when Lewis or Valtteri would radio over a name, completely ignoring the fact that they were trying to win a grand prix. He and Toto kept reminding them to stay focused, and he hoped that those messages weren’t the ones going live on air. This game was already all over the Paddock, he didn’t need to see it at home or at the factory either. 

~*~

Somehow he made it to the end of the weekend, and he’d never been so thankful to get back to work on Tuesday and to hear no-one shouting out names. The craze had blown over, just like he’d predicted, and by the next race, it had been forgotten completely, as if it had never even happened.

And if his self-confidence was just a little higher, well, that was just for him to know about, wasn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Short but sweet (hopefully!). As always crossposted to my tumblr (charanteleclerc), and prompts are always open! Enjoy ❤️


End file.
